Chapter 1 - The Ride into the Dark
“Comfortable?” he inquired, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that barely rose over the hum of the engine.
I did not shift my weight. The boning of the corset dug mercilessly into a fresh, violet bruise along my ribcage, a parting gift from Julian when I had initially hesitated to sign the marriage contract. “Perfectly.”
Luca’s jaw tightened. He reached for the crystal decanter resting in the console between us, pouring two fingers of amber liquid into a heavy glass. He handed it to me. I accepted it, my movements deliberate and steady, ensuring our fingers did not brush.
“You play the role remarkably well, Seraphina,” he murmured, swirling his own drink. “The untouchable ice princess. Tell me, how much did Julian sweat when he realized he had to trade his favorite sister for his pathetic, miserable life?”
“Julian only sweats when his own money is at risk,” I replied, staring straight ahead at the opaque privacy partition. “And I was never his favorite. I was merely his most liquid asset.”
Luca chuckled, a dark, humorless sound that sent a chill through the heated cabin. “At least we agree on the nature of your brother. But don’t pretend you aren’t terrified. I know what this is for you. A descent into hell. You are used to silk sheets, high-society galas, and the safety of your father’s name. Now, you belong to the man who dismantled your family’s legacy.”
I finally turned my head to look at him. His eyes were calculating, waiting for a crack in my porcelain facade. He wanted tears. He wanted begging.
“My father’s name was never a safety net,” I said evenly, taking a slow sip of the bourbon. It burned on the way down, but it was nothing compared to the fire I had already survived. “And hell is a place I have lived in since I was a child. Your car is merely a change of scenery, Mr. Morretti.”
His brow furrowed for a fraction of a second, the very first sign of genuine surprise I had managed to pull from him. He leaned closer, the scent of bergamot, winter air, and gun oil filling my senses.
May you like
“We’ll see how brave you are when the doors lock behind you,” he promised softly.
I looked back out the window at the freezing Boston rain. “I’ve never been afraid of locked doors. Only of the men who hold the keys.”
